


i've got a chest monster

by kimsvngkyus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, draco is rude, pining!Harry, there will be tears and cuddles i promise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7668004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimsvngkyus/pseuds/kimsvngkyus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's gone and messed with Harry's head. Harry's upset, as in, Upset.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i've got a chest monster

Harry wakes up after a night of  _ amazing _ sex to a Draco-shaped indent on the bed and a Draco sized hole in his heart. He wakes with a strange,  _ burning _ longing to fill that gaping hole with a something- a vaguely Draco shaped something.

 

Looking around, the Room of Requirement is a chaos of clashing house colours. Streaking bursts of Gryffindor reds and Slytherin greens litter the room. Rich red drapes surround the four poster, with a deep green loveseat by the fireplace. Picking his way out of bed, Harry noted with amusement that his clothes from last night were been scattered haphazardly across the room and smiled at the memory of how his tie had somehow ended up knotted to the bedpost.

 

A flash of green and silver caught his eye, as Harry bent down to retrieve Draco’s Slytherin tie from beside the door. Yesterday night was just the two of them. _Draco_ and _Harry_ _and Harry_ and _Draco and Draco and Harry together_. Harry held the tie up to his nose and inhaled deeply before flushing slightly at himself, but yet undeniably savouring the scent of Sleekeazy’s finest hair potion (Harry knew _no one’s_ hair could look that good on its own, Malfoy heir or not), sharp aftershave, with a tinge of sweetness and vanilla buried under his cold exterior.

 

***

 

As Harry paced the room, the Draco sized hole in his heart seemed to get hungry, gaping and growing. It yearned for the brush of soft lips against his neck and pale fingers in his hair and skin again skin and-

 

_ I seem to have a chest monster.  _ Harry mused absently, running his fingers through his hair. As Harry’s thoughts circled around Draco’s existence, Harry began to worry. Doubts clouded his mind as Harry let himself wonder where Draco could possibly be. Thinking back to last night, Harry didn’t hesitate to admit that last night was possibly the most mind-blowing of his entire eight years in Hogwarts. This had somehow even bested the night that he’d found the Philosopher’s Stone. He only wanted to know if Draco shared his sentiments.

 

Draco had to, Harry’s mind insisted. They had talked and Draco had  _ smiled  _ when Harry smiled, and  _ smiled  _ when Harry had cracked a stupid joke, and  _ smiled like he never had before _ . Harry would never forget that flash of bright teeth and pink lips and everything warm and sweet in the universe that had melted his heart into a puddle by Draco’s feet.

 

Seems like it isn’t Malfoy anymore.

 

After a night of intimacy and unbridled passion, Draco couldn’t possibly be Malfoy in Harry’s mind ever again. He would  _ have _ to be Draco, from now, until forever. 

 

Mind veering sharply back to Draco, Harry ran his fingers through his hair once more, teeth worrying his bottom lip, tongue flicking out slightly. The more Harry worried, the more his insecurities crowded his mind. Last night  _ had _ to mean something to Draco, it couldn’t possibly not! 

 

Harry remembered Draco’s laughter, when Draco had seemed so  _ free _ . He had thrown back his head and he laughed. Not one of those fake, poncy laughs that happened when Harry mucked up his potion in Double Potions every Monday, but this laugh, this laugh resonated from deep inside his being, warm and silky and the best sound Harry had ever could’ve heard. His mind flitted from fantastical reminiscing to an insatiable need to know where Draco had went, and more importantly, why he left. If last night had meant as much to Harry as it did to Draco there would be no reason to leave. Stomach twisting uneasily, Harry ran a hand through his hair. It couldn't mean last night didn’t mean as much to Draco as it did to him, could it?

 

The mere thought of Draco disregarding the entirety of yesterday sent jolts of fear racing down Harry’s spine, causing him to shudder involuntarily, fingers curling round Draco’s tie, as if holding it tight enough would make Draco stay.

 

***

 

As Harry slowly got dressed, his mind wandered to Hermione and Ron, what would they think? He knew Hermione would be understanding, regardless of her past experiences, but Ron. Ron wouldn’t accept Draco that easily, Harry knew, years of familial tension and underhanded sniping had curdled a strong dislike for the blond. 

 

Shaking his head, Harry dismissed his concerns easily, once Ron saw how they felt for each other, he’d want the best for his best mate. Harry was sure. (Was he?)

 

Flicking open the Marauders Map, Harry made quick work of locating Ron and Hermione, making their way from the Great Hall to Classroom 34, where Professor Mcgonagall was waiting to begin Transfiguration. Spotting a ‘Draco Malfoy’ on the route from the Room of Requirement to the Great Hall, Harry smiled, lips quirking up involuntarily at the mere thought of the blond. Hastily stuffing his belongings into his bookbag, Harry hurried to escape the room, pausing at the door to whisper with a smile, “you’ve been good to me last night”, before slipping out into the throng of students rushing for morning classes.

 

***

 

Walking briskly towards Classroom 34 and quickening his pace when Harry spots a flash of a blond head disappear into the crowd, Harry’s immediate joy overshadows his previous doubts, but he only has them taken and violently shoved in his face as Draco brushes by Harry, arm still outstretched mid-wave, without a second glance. 

 

Harry can feel his hopes shriveling up, curling into itself, as Harry swiftly forces that offending hand into an innocent trouser pocket, fingers crumpling into fists out of sight of everyone. Harry fights down an indignant flush, cheeks burning with embarrassment, instead opting to agonise over this later, deciding that he would focus on trying to get to transfiguration on time. 

 

***

 

Sliding into place as Professor Mcgonagall sweeps into the classroom, Harry sidles up to Hermione, deciding that it’d be easier to out himself to her first.

 

“Hey ‘Mione, you know how I didn’t spend the night yesterday?” Harry murmured, vivid green eyes flashing from below lowered lashes, gently chewing on a shockingly pink lower lip. Hermione sighed once, before nodding in resignation. This boy had and would  _ never _ listen to her lectures, it was just one of the qualities that made Harry Potter, Harry Potter and she couldn’t love him more for it.

 

She watches Harry flounder for a few moments, before breaking into a grin and placing her hand over Harry’s, “it’s okay Harry, you can tell me anything, you’ll be fine.” It was at times like these that Harry felt he never fully appreciated just how amazing of a friend Hermione Jean Granger was and  overcome with a sudden rush of gratitude, Harry could do nothing but hope she knew just how much he needed her. Oblivious to the pair, Ron was already on the verge of sleep, causing Hermione to rap him sharply across the knuckles, inciting a pained yelp and a glare from Professor Mcgonagall.

 

Ignoring Ron’s indignant spluttering at being woken abruptly, Hermione motioned for Harry to continue, hissing for Ron to  _ listen, it’s important!  _ Turning back around to face Harry and noting the subtle apprehension in the lines of his brow, Hermione smiled knowingly and prompted, “it's okay Harry, you can tell us what's going on.”

 

Ron, eyes wide and still hopelessly lost, nudged Harry with his elbow, “mate, what’s ‘Mione on about again? I know I did my DADA essay last night I promise!” Ron paused, turning questioning eyes on Harry, “where were  _ you _ last night?”

 

Harry swallowed nervously, “I was, uh-”

 

“Mister Potter, anything you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Mcgonagall’s eyes were steely behind wire frames as Harry shook his head meekly, somehow managing to avoid the eyes of Ron, Hermione  _ and  _ Professor Mcgonagall all at once.

 

Satisfied with his response, Professor Mcgonagall looked Harry over once more before returning to the front of the class in a swirl of green robes. 

 

***

 

Keeping his head down for the rest of his classes until lunch, Harry somehow managed to keep from running out of class and listen to his mind wanting to find Draco  _ now, right this moment, straightaway-  _ and yet under the radar during his next two lessons.

 

As lunch approached, Harry grew increasingly uneasy.  _ Would Draco be in the Great Hall? What would Draco be doing? Who would Draco be eating with? _ As thoughts of the pale blond crowded his mind, it chose that exact moment of contemplative worry and curdling anxiety to replay the scene of Draco brushing past him that morning.

 

_ What if Draco does that again? What if he’s upset with me? What if he never wants to see me again? What if-  _

 

Harry’s mind, barreling ahead at breakneck speed seemed to suddenly halt and splutter and kind of collapse on itself. Harry knew he’d liked Draco all along but, when had he gotten so  _ attached? _

**Author's Note:**

> hey so this is officially my second fic ?? thats so crazy !! i know i havent even gotten the second chapter of my first fic up ( link right here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/7228576/chapters/16407514 ) but i promise it's in the making !!  
> so i hope everyone will enjoy this fic too ? thank you to everyone that's come and read my fic and please leave a kudo or bookmark it if you liked it !!  
> find me @  
> @remusjupin - twitter  
> avadapotter.tumblr.com
> 
> xx claire


End file.
